The Burger AddictComedic monologues for men from the play Quiche Isn't Sexy by Gabriel Davis

My doc quite his practice to follow his broadway dreams. He still sees a couple patients backstage during intermission. But you have to pay for and sit through his shows. He takes my vitals and sing diagnoses me. Well, Jay you've got (singing, to tune of the Rolling Stones “Angie”) "Angi, angina, its from the burgers I fear. With no spinach in your soul and no quinoa in your bowl, you can't say you're satisfied?" His lyrics floor me. I run out and don't stay for the second act.

Next thing I know I'm at a gastropub slinging back angus sliders, and the barmaid is staring at me. “What?” I ask. "You might want to slow down there" she says “you know every time a cow farts, it puts a hole in the ozone.” I laugh a little, her stare sharpens like a dagger. “I’m not joking man” she says, “It takes hundreds of millions of cows to keep your angus sliders flowing. The ecological footprint they leave collectively is worse than every automobile on the planet combined.” I complain to the manager and they fire her. But she gets me thinking. Are burgers hurting more people than just me?

That night I look at the burger stack on my bedside table and begin to shed tears of guilt. What am I doing? I put a burger in my mouth and suck on it like a meat pacifier to calm myself down. And I drift to sleep. I dream I'm living in ancient times, part of a lost burger loving civilization. Hieroglyphics of burgers line the walls of our cave dwellings. The cows all have names like "Steero the elder", "Vealo the younger," "Goldie the yummy." And it's Goldie’s turn to be dinner.

The tribesman want to have something special. I suggest adding bacon. They all get very excited and nominate me to prepare the sacred dinner. I set off to satisfy the cravings of my people. I ascend mystic mountain, where bacon bushes grow wild along flowing streams of mayonnaise. I gather these toppings and descend the mountain.

On my way down, I can see the tribesman below dancing in a frenzied circle around Goldie. Two of the tribesman with larger bellies grab their chests and fall over. A loud crack of thunder can be heard. A puff of black gas emerges from Goldie's behind and rises up into the air merging with a monolithic black cloud that hovers above my people.

The tribesman come into focus, I realize, they all look exactly like me. It's a whole tribe of me! I call down to my selves. "Look at you! Worshipping Goldie the calf!" The bushel of bacon in my right arm grows heavy, the clay bowl of mayo balanced on my head begins to wobble. I allow both to fall. On the ground I see two stone tablets. I call out to my selves "You must cease your worship of Goldie the Calf! From this day forward you shall follow these tablets!" I pick them up and reveal on the first tablet - a chick pea! On the second - kale! My selves look up at me, Goldie makes a run for it, sun parts the clouds. I am exalted. The sun begins to pulsate and beep loudly. My alarm, waking me up.

I open my eyes and remove the burger from my mouth. Ever since, I’ve eaten beans and nuts and shit. It sucks. Sometimes I try to shape them into patties. Its not the same. But my cholesterol is getting better and I don’t cry when I eat them.